


nun kissing with longstanding beef

by historymiss



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: F/F, Harrow the Ninth Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26027041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historymiss/pseuds/historymiss
Summary: Commander Wake is a wildfire, but you are a heretic, so you were always going to burn.
Relationships: Mercymorn the First/Commander Wake
Comments: 3
Kudos: 55





	nun kissing with longstanding beef

You are the one who always meets Wake. The go-between, as you acidly refer to yourself, stealing away from whatever planet God has sent you to kill to somewhere more suitable for spy games. Blood of Eden codenames you Apostle, which you find almost unbearably gauche. You and Augustine had agreed, when your fall began, that the one of you that had the ability to sense lies (the little tells, the sour taste of adrenaline and sweat on your tongue, the peculiar little rhythms of the heart) would be the best pick.

It’s one of the few things you’ve ever agreed on.

So. Here you are, Lyctoral robe discarded and your head strangely unfettered without its slight weight, and here she is, Commander Wake, who does not get less intense or more pleasant with the passing of time. 

Her movements are not so much controlled as bridled, as if, walking towards you, she’s just one step away from smacking you in the mouth.

It would be interesting if she tried.

“Witch.” It’s not the worst greeting in the universe. You tilt your head. 

“Commander. I’ve got good news for you.” You nudge the cooler next to your feet. It’s a cylinder, with a strap, rather like something one might use to carry soup. It definitely does not hold soup. 

Wake eyes it greedily and reaches down to pick it up. You stop her for a second, one hand meant to just be a barrier between you, but she’s leant forward so far that your fingers brace against the chest plate of her armour. It’s polymer, nothing organic, matte and dented. You fancy you can feel the swell of her breathing, rising and falling under your hand.

“This is the only delivery you’ll get. I will not be able to obtain… samples for you again.”

This close, you can almost feel the tension from Wake. The spring that wound up too tight in her all those years ago, and broke. Her skin is pitted and scarred just like her armour, and her hair is the colour of rust and blood. She licks her lips, considering your words, then spits her reply on the ground.

You want, very badly, to kiss her. 

“I’ll make it work.” You have no doubt that she will. Wake is all ruthless practicality, eyes mad and focused as a hawk’s. She pushes past your hand to lean forward and pick up the container, and in that closing of distance you can no longer help yourself.

You kiss her. She tastes of sweat, and metal, and ashes, and she bites you almost immediately, filling your mouth with the bitter tang of your own blood. You expected this. It is, essentially, what you wanted.

Drawing back, Wake wipes your blood from around her mouth, weighing the canister like something she’s planning to throw.

“Blood of Eden thanks you for your... service.”

You wince, without meaning to, at the inflection of the word, and she twists her stained lips in something like a smile.

“You shouldn’t be so squeamish. Aren’t all you wizards fucking each other, up there in the void?”

“We do have other hobbies.” Your voice is traitorously thick, the usual edge dulled with pain and not a little embarrassment.

“Pity.” Her eyes search yours. Is that a question? You think about Gideon, and the way he comes back to the Mithraeum and practices with his sword long into the night, stretching his body to exhaustion, then goes out again as soon as John will release him. All to find this woman with her ratty red hair and burning eyes. 

“See you afterwards, witch.”

Wake turns on her heel and strides away with the bomb you gave her, and you can tell from every twitch and flex of her body that she is lying.


End file.
